


Radioactive

by snarkylittlespeedster (zom_bie)



Category: All New X-Factor, Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Marvel, Marvel Boy (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men (Comicverse), Young Avengers
Genre: M/M, Post-Apocalypse, nohmmy, will add characters as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:50:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4170123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zom_bie/pseuds/snarkylittlespeedster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douglas Ramsey was always kind of an awkward kid. Growing up in Vault 101, he mostly kept to himself, focusing on taking his G.O.A.T. exam so he could go on the engineering or medical track. However, everything changed on his 18th birthday when  his best friend, Amata, woke him in the middle of the night and told him that his father was missing. Her father, the Overseer, wanted him dead. He fought for his life to escape, and emerged into the Wasteland, 200 years after nuclear detonations destroyed the country. He eventually found a ragtag group of two twins, their mercenary bodyguard, and their strange pets.</p><p>This is the story of their adventures together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Radioactive

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this about a month ago and then stopped, feeling discouraged, buuuut...the Fallout 4 announcement has me very excited and it's about all I talk about these days anyway.  
> If I can stay dedicated, I plan to also do a New Vegas fic, and eventually a Fallout 4. (:
> 
> Also, characters to look out for in the future:  
> The Maximoff fam (Pietro, Lorna, Wanda, Luna), Remy Lebeau, Teddy Altman, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and more that I haven't quite planned out just yet.
> 
> Please forgive any errors in the fic, I have no beta!  
> Also, follow me on snarkylittlespeedster.tumblr.com  
> Enjoy!

There had been a lot of things to convince Doug that the Wasteland was a hard and overall pretty terrible place. There had been a lot of stories he’d heard, a lot of things he’d seen that had left him unable to sleep at night, and a lot of trials. However, nothing had quite affected him as much as watching Tommy, the one person who seemed to be _made_ for the Wastes, break.

They’d been fighting some Super Mutants -- monstrous, huge aberrations that resulted from a mutation; their pets, Centaurs, were downright terrifying -- and had turned tail to run, back through the ruins of DC they’d come from. They hadn’t expected the mostly-collapsed building they’d been approaching to be crawling with the things.

“Run! Go!” Tommy had shouted, as if they needed the extra push. Doug could hardly hear the roar of the Super Mutants behind them over his own heart pounding in his ears, his feet slapping against the ground. He remembered distantly thinking that Tommy could have easily overtaken any of them; he was by far the fastest person out of their rag-tag group, but he also had a tendency to try and hang back to make sure everyone else made it. 

He was seemingly fearless of death or injury sometimes; whether this was a result of his jet addiction or his recklessness was unclear, but regardless, Doug was fairly certain that Tommy hadn’t ever expected to face the prospect of never walking again. He’d been a foot behind his brother, trying to usher him forward, when rapid shots rang out, peppering the ground beneath their feet. Tommy threw his arms up as if to protect his head from any stray shots, and stumbled when one landed especially close to his foot. Combined with his attempt to dodge any other bullets, Tommy hit the ground. He scrambled to turn over onto his back, firing rounds from his assault rifle into the oncoming Super Mutant, who didn’t slow.

Billy and Noh-Varr seemed to notice that Tommy had fallen behind at the same time, but were still a moment too late. Doug was the last to turn around in time to see the mutant raise a giant club covered with barbed wire and nails over Tommy, who was backing away as well as he could while still firing on him, and slammed it down.

It could have been worse, all things considered. If the blow hadn’t been miscalculated, Tommy would have died, or have been ripped open and forced to suffer a slow death. As it were, it landed on Tommy’s leg below his knee, and the scream of pain that ripped from his throat made Doug cringe. The mutant seemed to almost laboriously drag the club back towards itself, Tommy burying his face in the dirt and giving cries of pain as it pulled on his freshly-made wounds. 

It raised its club, detaching it from Tommy’s leg with a sickening squelching sound. Noh-Varr and Billy ran to the rescue before he could attack the boy again; Billy dragging his brother out of the way with a surprising strength born of adrenaline, while Noh raised a shotgun and fired it directly in the creature’s face. It staggered a step back, and Noh advanced, cocking the gun and shooting it again. He popped open the chamber to load two more shells into the gun, and snapped it back together, aiming it and firing a final shot. The Super Mutant finally went down, and just for extra measure, Noh walked up to it, pressed the barrel to its forehead, and pulled the trigger. The monster jerked and went still, and Noh moved quickly to Billy’s side, picking up Tommy and hauling him onto his back so they could get out.

Doug felt useless, watching from afar, and once again found himself basking in the simply astounding bravery that his friends showed. He wondered time and time again how the hell he’d managed to survive before he found them, and what sort of luck landed him with such headstrong and fearless friends. 

Noh-Varr took the lead to get them out of there, Tommy slumped limply against his back, his gun dangling from his hand. Doug took up the rear this time, determined to be a help as he turned and shot at the oncoming Centaurs that had begun to crawl after them.

They found relative safety inside of a dilapidated building, and Noh eased Tommy down, his normally stern expression lined with what Doug could only assume was worry. It was strange, seeing the hardened mercenary out of his element like this; he obviously didn’t know what to do with himself.

One look at Tommy’s leg and Doug almost hurled, looking away quickly and pressing a hand over his mouth, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath through his nose. It was almost worse, that way; he could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air, but he didn’t want to look at it any further.

Billy was by far the most helpful in the situation. He was at his brother’s side in an instant, his face a mask of calm determination as he rifled through his bag for medical supplies. Doug watched warily, ready to look away if his stomach turned again, as Billy withdrew a needle filled with Med-X and gently inserted it into Tommy’s leg just above the wounds, injecting it slowly with a practiced hand.

“Noh, will you…?” he nodded to Tommy, and the mercenary nodded quickly in understanding, sitting behind Tommy and pulling his torso into his lap, half-resting against Noh’s chest, and he grabbed Tommy’s hands tightly, whispering surprisingly soothing words to the boy. 

Doug inched forward wearily. “...Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, hesitant and unsure what help he _could_ be.

“Yeah, just...grab his other leg,” Billy said, his voice softer and breaking a little as he gestured to the uninjured leg.

Doug nodded numbly, and shrugged his backpack off of his shoulder onto the ground, grabbing ahold of Tommy’s leg, his stomach knotting again, but he fought it down. He’d helped his father often enough with the few broken bones that people managed to obtain in the Vault to know what Billy was about to do.

“No, B...what are you about to do?” Tommy asked, his voice heavy with pain and slightly sluggish from the effect the painkillers were taking on him. Noh moved his arms under Tommy’s and laced his fingers together behind his head to keep him as still as possible, and Tommy seemed to realize what was happening. He pulled lightly at his good leg, but Doug tightened his grip, looking away as Billy jerked his leg without a word. Tommy jerked against them, his teeth clenched against the cry of pain that escaped him. He clenched at Noh’s shoulders, since they were the only things he could grab, and Doug could practically see his nails buried there. He breathed heavily through his nose after that, his entire body tense as he worked through the pain.

Slowly, Doug and Noh both eased off their holds on him, and Tommy sagged against Noh, looking damn near spent, but Billy wasn’t done. He was bent over his leg, a needle and thread in hand so he could patch together his leg as well as possible, but it was pretty shredded. Doug winced at the sight, and pulled his bag closer to him, digging through it to try and see if he had any helpful supplies on hand. It had been a long and gruesome trip so far, however, and he was fairly certain he’d exhausted his resources.

He dug through his bag and eventually shifted away from the group a little so he could dump everything onto the ground, sifting through the contents until he found a small, relatively clean bag he used for any chems or medical supplies he found. He unzipped the bag and dug through it, pushing things aside until he found his single remaining stimpack. He pulled it out and held it out to Billy, who barely looked up from his work at it. He finished off his stitch quickly and took it without a word, pulling off the protective cap and injecting it into Tommy’s leg. It seemed to help a little, at least, stemming the flow of blood to an extent and causing some of the wounds to slowly knit themselves back together.

Billy went back to work without a word, stitching together the largest wounds next. When he finished, he tossed aside his supplies and stood with a sigh. “I’ll--be back in a minute to dress it. Let him rest,” he said to Noh. The mercenary gave a nod and looked down at Tommy, who was sweating profusely, his eyes glazed over. Doug watched them for a moment, his heart twisting painfully, before realizing that Billy stepped outside. He turned and followed him out haltingly, unsure if he should give the other space or offer his company. He chose the latter, and quietly shut the door to the building behind them, leaning against the wall and glancing over to Billy. “I didn’t know you smoked,” he commented lightly. “I don’t,” came the tart reply, and yet Doug watched him take a long drag off the cigarette. Billy stared at it as he exhaled the smoke, and didn’t say anything else. After a moment, Billy spoke in an undertone, as if there had been no break in the conversation. “Tommy does. Sometimes I do if...if I need one.” He let out a long sigh, and Doug just nodded silently, turning his attention to their surroundings; the street they were standing in was deserted, and, if they were lucky, would stay that way until they were ready to leave.

There was another long pause before Billy spoke up again. “There’s no way,” he said with a shake of his head, and Doug looked to him. Billy’s face was in his hand, and he took a long breath.

“There’s...no way for what?” Doug asked gingerly, his brows furrowed.

“There’s no way he gets to keep his leg, or even _walk_ again.” Doug felt a lump forming in his throat at the announcement.

“There--there has to be _some_ way that we can--” “There’s _not_ ,” Billy said firmly, and took another long drag from his cigarette, his expression bitter. “Trust me, if there were a way...but-but we’re too far away from anywhere that could supply actual, _proper_ medical care. We don’t have any medicine, don’t have any supplies that could help us care for his leg, and it’s just...shredded. It’s like it’s just begging to be infected. There’s just...no way. It’s hopeless enough as it is, but if it gets infected…” He gave a bitter laugh that was so sudden Doug nearly jumped. “If it gets infected, I’m going to have to cut off my brother’s leg.”

Doug didn’t say anything. What _could_ he say? He knew how devastating that would be for Tommy. The boy was one of the most energetic people he’d ever met, and damn near fearless. He took everything in stride, and never stopped moving forward; it would be hard for him to keep that mindset.

\-- Doug had run into the twins on the road once or twice before they all joined together. There hadn’t been any _official_ decision that they were going to start traveling together; it had just sort of happened. Doug had traveled back to Megaton - since it was the only real ‘city’ he had found in that godforsaken Wasteland - and had barely made it halfway down the hill into the city when he spotted Tommy.

The scavenger was in the irradiated water near the atomic bomb that was the centerpiece of the city, but that wasn’t what really made the image stick out in his memory. It was the fact that Tommy was stripped to nothing but his boxers, sitting in the knee-deep water and telling the cult that worshipped the bomb that he was reaching enlightenment by drinking the ‘holy water that Atom has given us’. It was only made worse by the fact that the cultists there seemed to think he was serious, and were eating his charade up.

Doug had stopped short and stared at him for a long moment before sighing and shaking his head. He trudged up one of the many ramps to the different tiers of the city until he found Billy leaning against a railing outside of the Craterside Supply. The darker-haired twin was watching his brother with a thoroughly unamused expression, giving another sigh as Doug approached him. The blond just walked up beside him, leaned against the railing, and watched Tommy for another moment before speaking.

“Moira roped him for her ‘Wasteland Survival Guide’, huh?” Doug raised his brows and glanced to Billy, who just pursed his lips.

“Yup.”

Doug sighed and shook his head, looking on at the scene. “I’m guessing it didn’t take much convincing?”

“Nope.” Billy finally straightened, sighing and leaning his head towards the tall, rather mean-looking man beside him. “He decided to hire on some extra ‘help’. He said he was doing this to get some extra caps to pay him, but...I think he would have done it either way.”

“Probably,” Doug agreed, and then nodded to the mercenary, whom he hadn’t met before. He was wearing Talon Company armor -- even Doug had learned to recognize the symbol, in his short time in the Wasteland -- and was fairly ripped. He had slicked-back platinum hair that nearly matched Tommy’s, and a scowl that gave Doug the feeling it never budged (he would later find out that he was mostly correct in his assumption). “I’m Doug,” he greeted, giving a short nod of his head in the man’s direction.

“Noh-Varr.”

“Noh--oh, okay.” Doug gave a quick nod of his head, and turned away, not commenting on the strange name. He’d learned to just not question things; something was always going to surprise him, and he was just going to have to get used to that.

His attention was drawn back to Tommy as he crawled on his hands and knees to the edge of the small pool of water, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground. He complained loudly, hands braced against the ground. “What the fuck is wrong with you people? How do you even--” He heaved. “Jesus, how do you guys--” he cut off again, hurling once more, and Doug grimaced, turning his back to the scene and leaning against the railing again. He could still hear Tommy’s shouting behind him; he’d taken a sudden turn to playing along with the cultists to calling them ‘crazy bastards’. “How the hell do you even -- _hurk_ \-- even _do_ this?”

Doug rolled his eyes; even if he was a Vault Dweller, he at least had more common sense than Tommy; it wasn’t much of an achievement, admittedly, but it was _something_ , and he was going to take it.

“ _Billy_!” Doug snorted as he heard Tommy’s whined shout for his brother, and at the response he received; Billy just sighed and mirrored Doug’s position, with his back turned towards his brother.

“ _You_ volunteered for this, Tommy!” Billy picked at some grime under his fingernails, not bothering to look back at the sound of Tommy hurling again.

Eventually, Tommy managed to drag himself up the ramps and stagger to the door to The Craterside Supply, where Moira worked. He shot a glare at his brother - only receiving a shrug in response - and then pushed open the door, nearly falling inside and barely managing to catch himself on the bar. He looked like hell; why he would do that to himself, Doug couldn’t imagine.

“Well...I actually needed to sell off some stuff I found,” Doug offered up as an explanation to following Tommy in, but it was pretty obvious that he was mostly interested in seeing what happened. No one fell for it.

Moira was as annoyingly _happy_ as ever. She approached Tommy, waving him over. “Ohh, look at you! Poor little thing, you’re practically glowing. Now, I’m going to get you fixed up in a jiff, but _first_ I need to ask you some questions for my research. How would you say you’re feeling right about now?”

Tommy swayed slightly, and waved her off, despite being doubled over with an arm braced on top of the counter to hold himself up. “Oh, you know--” he coughed, hacking up phlegm and spitting it out onto the ground. “I feel fine” He began to cough again. “Never b--” he began to cough violently, and then finally dropped, hitting the ground with a solid _thunk_.

“Uh…” Doug shifted awkwardly, staring at the boy. “Was that...his head? Because I’m pretty sure that was his head.”

“It’s all right,” Noh-Varr said, speaking up for the first time since he’d introduced himself. Doug looked to him, slightly surprised. “It’s not like he had a whole lot of brain cells left up there in the first place.”

Doug gave a snort of laughter, and looked up at Moira, who was just smiling and looking down at Tommy, hands on her hips. She looked up at the others and then clapped her hands together. 

“All right! Who wants a nice refreshing glass of warm Brahmin’s milk? With some Rad-Away mixed in for our friend here… If… If he’ll wake up.”

Doug stared at her incredulously, and then just shrugged. “You know what? I could use a glass of milk.” Billy and Noh-Varr looked to him as though he were crazy, and he gave a little shrug, sidling up onto one of the barstools.

\--

“You know...Being mutated doesn’t feel all that bad,” Tommy announced happily, marching along in front of the group. They were moving on to the next part of Moira’s book -- scavenging. Tommy had laughed and told her he was the man for the job -- he was a scavenger, after all. That was how he made a living.

“You’re an idiot,” came Noh-Varr’s gruff response. Doug was starting to like the guy.

“I second that,” Billy responded.

“Third,” Doug finally piped up, smirking as Tommy turned and scowled at them, walking backwards.

“Yeah, well, when _you_ guys break an arm and don’t have any Stimpacks left...you’re screwed,” he said, moving his hands in front of him as he thought through what he said; apparently, he’d meant to word it differently. He continued regardless. “But when _I_ break my arm and don’t have any Stimpacks left--”

“You take some jet and run around screaming until you crash.”

“I just _take a dip_ ,” he said, pointedly ignoring Noh-Varr. “In some nice, irradiated water -- which isn’t hard to find here -- and bam, healed. No side effects.”

“Except for the radiation,” Doug pointed out.

“Yeah, but...it doesn’t matter. I can handle it now.”

“You sure about that? Maybe you should test it out.”

Tommy huffed, shifting the goggles on his head so he could scratch at his scalp underneath, making his hair stick up even more haphazardly than before. “Umm...no. We’ll just...give it a trial run when the need arises.”

“Shouldn’t be hard. Moira’s pretty crazy.”

“Yeah, the radiation thing was pretty crazy, but this? Come on. Simple scavenging mission,” he announced, moving the strap of his gun off of his shoulder so he could hold it, only to swing the gun onto his shoulder. 

“Yeah, because scavenging _never_ goes wrong with you.”

“You know, little brother? I’m gettin’ real sick of your shit attitude,” Tommy announced, though he didn’t actually sound upset at all.

His brother just snorted. “‘Little?’ ‘Shit attitude?’ Stop dicking around. Anyway, we don’t _know_ who’s older. Ass.”

The banter continued as they headed to the Super Duper Mart, an old Pre-War market of sorts. They arrived and everyone readied their weapons, just in case.

“Shouldn’t take too long,” Tommy rattled on, sneaking towards the front door. “Just gotta go in, grab the stuff, get the hell out.” They skirted the dead bodies of two raiders and a death claw, and entered the building.

“Then why the hell do you keep talking about it? And why the _hell are we helping you_?” Doug hissed, as if just realizing how stupid he was for allowing himself to be dragged along. He didn’t receive a response and he continued inside, crouched down with his gun gripped tightly in his hand. He caught a couple of people jumping around on top of the shelves, casually talking to each other and laughing at obnoxious jokes. His stomach twisted uncomfortably and he followed them silently, heart beating a million miles a minute as they found an old checkout desk to hide behind.

“Uhh...it’s a pretty popular Raider hideout,” Tommy finally answered. He pulled his goggles down over his eyes, and Billy and Noh-Varr both cursed under their breath, ducking against the counter.

“Tommy, _no_ ,” Billy whispered at him, voice sharp.

“Tommy, _yes_.” Tommy’s grin was wild as he dug around in his bag and it had Doug shifting uneasily.

Doug looked at the other two with concern. “What’s he about to--sh- _shit_!” He had to force himself to stay relatively quiet, throwing himself against the counter with the other two when Tommy pulled out a frag grenade from his pocket, pulling the pin with his teeth. He stood and threw it, and Doug hunkered down, clamping his hands over his ears.

The explosion rocked the building, and the screams of two raiders who’d managed to be caught in the explosion echoed through the space. The others gave surprised shouts and dove for cover, before a volley of bullets were fired off, piercing the wall above Doug’s head. He gave a shout and hunkered further down, clutching his gun to his chest.

“Are you _crazy_?!” he exclaimed.

“Little bit!” Tommy answered with a maniacal laugh that definitely made him _sound_ it. He was sitting casually, back pressed to the wall, and he pulled another grenade out from the pocket of his pants.

“You just-- _carry_ those things? In your _pockets_?!” Doug was yelling at that point, panic and disbelief threatening to overwhelm him.

“Yeah, why?” Tommy pulled the pin on it and tossed it, forcing some Raiders out of cover. He drew his gun, aimed, and quickly took out two of them before ducking down again to avoid them, whistling as he reloaded his gun.

“Just--nevermind, holy shit…” Doug took a deep breath, and went to peek over the top of the counter, only for a bullet to ricochet off of the top of the counter, narrowly missing his head. He jumped violently and hunkered back down, still clutching his gun. “Holy fucking _shit_ , I hate you! Why did I come along again?”

“Because you thought it would be fun for some reason?” Billy asked dryly, snapping on the scope to his sniper rifle and peering over the counter. He ducked back down quickly, took a deep breath, and drew his gun, popping up and aiming long enough to bury a bullet in the head of the closest raider before hunkering down again.

“Maybe you hoped for safety in numbers. Tommy negates your safety by about three hundred percent, by the way.” Noh-Varr was handling the situation with a strange calmness, crouched behind the counter and raising long enough to return rounds every time a raider paused to reload.

“Yeah, but you’ve gotta add like...at least most of that back, right?”

“Not when that idiot has explosives.”

Tommy gave a cackle, darting out from behind the counter and towards the numerous shelves in the building, using them for cover. He ignored his brother’s shout of his name, a precarious stack of mines in his hand. He began to activate them and toss them down with a surprising quickness and expertise, mowing down another raider before heading back for cover. Doug had to admit; the kid could move pretty fast when the situation called for it.

“Does he always do this?” Doug asked, turning to Billy, who just gave a sigh.

“Yup.” His answer was punctuated by one of the mines blowing, a scream accompanying it. Tommy slid into place behind the counter, grinning like the madman that he was. 

“Miss me?”

“No. Go that way so they stop shooting at us,” Doug shot back acidically, glowering at the boy, who only seemed amused.

“Aww, blondie. Thought you liked me.”

“I _hate_ you,” he repeated, not bothering to look up again.

“Yeah, yeah. Look, how about, if you’re gonna sit there and be useless, at least keep an eye on this spot for us?” he asked, gesturing towards the opening to the desk area. “It’s a bit of a blind spot with our back turned to it and you’re obviously too wimpy to actually _shoot_ \--”

“They don’t teach you to _shoot people_ in a vault!” Doug cried out, exasperated, but hunkered down in the far corner and aimed his gun, just in case. He lied, a little; they _didn’t_ teach you to shoot people, but his father _had_ bought him a BB gun as a kid and made sure he practiced using it. Mostly on still targets and Radroaches, but still.

The shooting subsided, and everyone let out a breath, relaxing.

“Dammit, Tommy, one of these days I’m gonna kill you,” his brother grumbled, and Tommy just laughed.

“I don’t plan on sticking around that long.”

“Oh, shut up, don’t joke around about that,” Billy grumbled, reloading his sniper. “Now c’mon, let’s go see if there’s anyone still--”

Doug fired off multiple shots with his pistol, most of which embedded themselves in the chest of a raider who’d tried to sneak up on them. He didn’t move for a long moment after shooting, and the others stared at him, surprised.

“...What?” he snapped, irritable despite himself. “You asked me to guard this side. I did my job, I killed a guy. Happy?”

“I mean, I _guess_ , but that’s kind of overkill, Doug,” Tommy started, sounding infuriatingly condescending. “I mean, you unloaded a whole damn _clip_ in the guy. Ammo is sparse out here! Gotta learn the laws of the lan--”

“Oh, _shut up_ ,” Doug hissed, pushing himself to his feet. “Let’s get your damn food.”

“And medicine,” Tommy added brightly, and Doug heaved a sigh.

“Please, please, _please_ don’t get high while we’re doing this.”

“Hey, she _asked_ for medicine! Doesn’t hurt she’s giving me some chems in return…”

“Oh, my god,” Doug breathed out, wiping his hands down his face and standing up, his legs shaking a little. “I’m gonna die here.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Billy grumbled, putting his sniper on his back and pulling out the pistol he kept strapped to his hip. “You’re not gonna die. Yet, anyway.”

“Thanks for the reassurance.”

“Any time.”

The group moved through the shop, Tommy making a few stops to collect some food or to rifle through the supplies of the killed raiders. Doug shuddered and looked away while Tommy shoved his hands in the jean pocket of a raider whose leg was missing from his thigh down.

“Might want to get used to it.”

Doug looked up to see that it was Noh-Varr who had addressed him. The man looked as stoic as ever, his blue-eyed gaze fixed on him. 

“Wh-what?” he asked, feeling strangely abashed that Noh-Varr had noticed his repulsion; he knew, even with his limited time in the wastes, that this sort of thing was common.

“I’m guessing you’re not planning on going back to that Vault?”

“What? Why?” Doug asked, unsure of where Noh was headed with his questions.

“Because there’s obviously a reason you left.” The mercenary’s voice was level, and his gaze didn’t waver; he was obviously quite sure of how he felt. “You left one of the safest places in the world to jump right into the most dangerous one. There has to be a reason.”

“Well...yeah,” he admitted quietly. He thought back to his last moments in the vault, with Amata waking him up and telling him that his father had left in the middle of the night. Her own father, the Overseer, wanted him dead as a result of it. “I’m not...I’m not planning on going back, no.”

“Then you’re going to have to get used to life out here. Don’t spare anyone a bullet. They won’t give you the same courtesy. They’re not gonna need their supplies when they’re dead, either, but _you_ will.”

Billy was watching the two as they spoke without comment, his own gaze dark. Tommy was ignoring them, taking what he wanted from the raiders without a word and refusing to look up at them.

“...Yeah, I know.” Doug’s voice was quieter, and he gripped his gun tightly; it was hard, to face the reality of the situation he was in. He hated the Wastes, couldn’t stand them, but...he needed to find his father, and Noh-Varr was right; he _couldn’t_ go back to the Vault. He was going to have to harden up, and fast.

They picked up some food from the shelves, and headed through the market, finding the pharmacy, although the door into the actual storage room was locked.

“Goddammit,” Tommy grumbled. “I’m not looking for a key. Maybe I can pick the lock…”

“Wait,” Doug interjected, moving forward to the console beside the door. “I’m willing to bet this opens it.” He pulled up the screen, which immediately pulled up a login.

“Yeah, if you’ve got the password,” Tommy shot back. “Those consoles are always a bitch to hack.”

Doug ignored him, fingers flying across the keyboard. “You’ve just gotta know how to talk to them…” he mumbled lightly. He smirked, hit the enter button, and the computer beeped, opening the command console. “See? There you go.” He noticed the slightly impressed looks that the twins were giving him and tried to ignore them, but he had to admit; being able to do _something_ the others couldn’t felt pretty nice. He’d felt like dead weight for the most part.

“Nice job, four eyes.” Tommy smirked and pushed open the door.

“I’m not--I don’t even _wear_ glasses!” Doug heaved out a sigh and trudged in after him, knowing that he wouldn’t care. They collected various medicine, Tommy dumping just about everything he found into his bag. Doug grabbed some stimpacks, knowing he would probably need them in the future, and then moved to one of the charging stations for a Protectron. It was Old-War tech, that much was obvious. He moved to the console that controlled it, leaning down to blow away the thick layer of dust. He brushed his fingers across the keyboard gently, as if afraid to disturb the machinery.

“Isn’t this cool?” he asked, not noticing at first how excited and mystified he sounded.

“What, taking drugs?”

“Wha--no, _Tommy_ ,” he shot back, glaring at the boy, who was currently shaking a container of Jet near his ear to see if it was still full. Tommy paused, looked at him, and shrugged, then continued shaking it. “I _meant_ ,” he continued, turning his eyes back to the computer and using his hand to wipe at the hardened dust that was caked onto the screen. “ _This_. Pre-War stuff. The building, the tech, the medicine...Hell, even some of the food we just grabbed dated back to that time. I mean, it’s old, sure, but-”

“It’s just a _Protectron_ , Doug. Don’t get all hot and bothered about it,” Tommy grumbled, holding the Jet in his hand as he rifled through the remainder of the supplies on the shelves

“Yeah, but don’t you guys ever think of like...how life was, before all this?” he asked, hacking the computer with even more ease than the previous and looking through the files on the computer. “I mean...imagine it. There must have been like, no crime with these things everywhere. This was just a _supermarket_. It must have felt so safe,” he said, almost longingly.

“Until it was nuked,” Tommy piped up, and both of the others chuckled.

“Really? You guys don’t think about that?” Doug asked, feeling slightly annoyed at the teasing.

“No,” came Noh-Varr’s response. “Not really. It’s pointless. It’s not the way things are, and that’s not going to change any time soon.”

“Alright, Mr. Sunshine,” Doug grumbled, but Noh-Varr seemed to take offense.

“Listen, you can keep your head in the clouds if it makes you feel any better, but I’m gonna keep both feet on the damn ground and my finger on the trigger of my gun. It’s a world of blood and death now, Doug, and there’s not much room for daydreaming when you’ve got to worry about survival every minute of every day.”

Doug stilled, his hands hovering over the keys of the computer, surprised at the sudden outburst. He felt embarrassed, suddenly, and wanted to say something back but couldn’t find the words to respond. It was Billy that spoke up, however, his voice unusually soft.

“Noh,” he started quietly. “Relax. It’s kind of nice to have someone around who still likes that kind of stuff. It’s...a little naive, sure,” he started, and Doug felt a flush crawling up his neck. “...But it’s nice. It’s refreshing. Innocent, whatever,” he said, waving a hand at the merc. “Besides, it can’t hurt to--”

“We’re back, somebody open up the--” A voice echoed through the building, and they all jumped, hunkering down under cover. “Hang on...somethin’ ain’t right here.”

“Oh, _shit_ , they’ve got backup!” Doug hissed, drawing his rifle and clutching it to his chest again. 

“Obviously.” Noh-Varr made a move for the door and Doug froze, terrified that the raiders would see them, but Noh closed the door before the raiders could make notice of them. Their muffled shouts could still be heard through the door, however, and it was obvious they had found the bodies of their friends.

“Dammit, Tommy,” Doug mumbled under his breath, shaking his head.

“Why is it always ‘dammit, _Tommy_?’ Why can’t it be ‘dammit, Doug?’ At least that rhymes.” 

“That’s an _alliteration_ , idiot,” Doug shot back. “And it’s always ‘dammit, Tommy,’ because it’s always you getting us into trouble!”

“Wha--you’ve only been with the group for like, three hours!”

“Exactly!”

“I’m actually gonna agree with Doug on this one,” Billy piped up helpfully, and the blond held out a hand towards him pointedly.

“See? _Thank_ you!”

“Hey, I resent that. I--”

“ _Guys_. Raiders. There’s a door and a counter that they can _easily_ jump between us and them. Remember?” Noh-Varr sounded frustrated, and Doug flushed, embarrassed. They were busy arguing like children when there was a very real threat right outside the door.

“God, calm down, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Tommy shot back, moving towards the robot. “We’ve got a damn _Protectron_ in here.”

“No, hey, we don’t know if it’s--” Doug moved to stop Tommy, only to have his hands slapped away while Tommy messed with the controls. He stopped, surprised that Tommy had done something so childish as slapping his hands, and scowled, reaching up again. “No, seriously, Tommy, it might not be--”

Tommy shoved him away this time, ignoring the bark of retribution he received from his brother, and hit the command to release and activate the Protectron. The tube opened and the robot stepped out, it’s movements jerky and slightly uncoordinated, like that of a child.

“God, these things are such shit,” Tommy grumbled, shoving the goggles he’d been wearing onto his forehead again. He braced his hands on his hips and scowled at it as it made its way out of its container and into the room, a monotone, it’s grating mechanical voice reading out its booting process.

“They might _look_ it, but they’re pretty resilient,” Doug huffed, brushing himself off and glaring at the boy, who just looked smug. “And some of them require--”

“Please. Present. Employee. ID card,” the robot rattled off, rotating on its “hips” to look at all of them. It’s voice was slow and halting, and the voice module obviously wasn’t intended to sound natural.“This. Area. Is prohibited. To all. Non-employees.” 

Doug didn’t even say anything at first, just held a hand out to the robot. “See? _That_ is what happens when you don’t listen to people.”

“Yeah, but--”

“No, just, shut up and keep it distracted,” he snapped. “Open the door when I tell you.” He ducked behind the robot, strapping his gun to his back, and moving with it as it tried to turn and look at him. he ripped open its control panel and started fiddling with the mechanics inside.

“Leave. The premises. Or letal. Force. Will be. Authorized.” 

“Noooo, it won’t,” Doug said, his voice almost sing-song as he unplugged a wire from the robot. There was a repeated _click_ as the Protectron attempted to fire at them, but nothing happened.

“...Doug, I am actually a little impressed right now,” Billy admitted, staring at the Protectron warily and holding his rifle just in case.

“Thanks. Let’s just...make sure we get out of here alive, and you can be impressed all you want,” he mumbled, distracted as he moved aside different wires. He finally found what he was looking for, and pulled out a chip that had been embedded into the robot’s hardwire. He shoved it in his pocket and moved to the computer, typing into it quickly. “Alright, I’m gonna make it walk outside and make it frenzy when the raiders get closer,” he said out loud. 

“Hey Doug,” Tommy said, barely suppressing a snicker. “What’s that on top of the computer?”

Doug looked to him, narrowing his eyes, and then back to the computer, looking on top of it. He grabbed the object there and held it up, heaving a sigh and slapping a hand over his face. “Oh my god…”

“What? What is it?” Billy asked, stepping forward to peer at it.

“...A fucking Employee ID Card.”

**Author's Note:**

> Moira's quests are the literal worst. She drives me INSANE...but she _does_ give you some pretty good perks in the long run (even if one of them is technically a mutation...). Next chapter will probably wrap up the rest of her quests, and then we'll start exploring the extensive backgrounds of the characters we've encountered. (:  
>  Let me know what you think!


End file.
